Don't You Cry No More
by Supervillegirl
Summary: Mpreg! A Winchester gets raped, but God decides to turn this curse into a blessing of unseen worth.
1. Chapter 1

Don't You Cry No More

Set between 4x02 and 4x03

Chapter One

Dean and Sam Winchester had moved to separate bedrooms in Bobby's house after their run-in with the Witnesses. It was a nice change from the living room.

Dean lay in bed, halfway towards slumber. He never heard the door open or the footsteps across the room. The first sign that danger was close was the cloth that was pressed over his nose and mouth. Dean's eyes snapped open as he opened his mouth to yell. It was muffled by the cloth, and Dean raised his fists, but they were pinned above his head. As Dean struggled, a familiar scent stung his nostrils.

_Chloroform…_

Dean held his breath, but it was too late. He slowly blacked out.

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Dean opened his eyes slowly, the chloroform still weighing heavy on his mind and body. The first thing he became aware of was that a gag was tied around his head, preventing him from talking. The second was that his hands were handcuffed to the railing of the headboard. The third was that he was naked.

Dean lifted his head to see a scruffy-looking man in his mid-forties in the corner of the room. He had closed the door.

"Well…" the man whispered. "He's awake."

"What do you want, you son of a bitch?" Dean asked, but it came out as a muffle against the gag.

"Shh…don't be like that," the man whispered as he approached the bed. Dean tried to kick the man, but his ankles were handcuffed to the foot of the bed. He was helpless. The man knelt on the side of the bed. "I'll make you feel better."

Dean glared at the man, trying to think of a weapon to use on him, until the man moved his hand and started cupping Dean. Dean's eyes widened.

_No…Oh, gosh, no…_

The man straddled Dean at the waist, removing his shirt. Dean started yelling and bucking his body to get the man off. The man leaned over, sniffing Dean's neck. Dean turned his face away, eyes shut tight against this nightmare.

_Oh, gosh…Please let Sammy hear something…Please…_

When Dean opened his eyes, the man had already removed all his clothes. The man sat on Dean's groin, pressing their…parts…together.

_Oh, gosh…Sammy…_

A tear rolled down Dean's cheek as he closed his eyes, unable to witness anymore. The man began touching the both of them and doing stuff Dean didn't even want to think about. Dean cried as his body was violated. He jerked when the man entered him, beginning the sex. Dean could feel his body automatically responding, and his breath hitched with every thrust the man delivered. After what seemed like an eternity, the man climbed off of him and uncuffed his ankles only, sliding Dean's pajama pants back onto Dean.

"Thank you," said the man as he left, closing the door.

Dean lay in bed like that for who knew how long. At long last, Dean rolled over onto his side, his head resting on his arm and his other arm over his head. His wrists were chafing under the cuffs, and he couldn't move his arms much. He pulled his legs up a little as he let himself go.

********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam opened his eyes to find the sun shining through the window. He got up and dressed as he made his way down the hall towards the stairs. As he passed Dean's room, he thought he heard a sniffle. Sam stopped and leaned his ear against the door. There it was again: a deep intake of breath.

_Is Dean crying?_ Sam thought as he slowly turned the knob.

"Hey, Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked as he opened the door. "I was passing by, and—"

Sam froze at the sight that greeted him. Dean was lying on his side on his bed half-naked and turned away from Sam, his hands cuffed to the headboard above his head and cuffs laying abandoned at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, my gosh…" Sam breathed. "Dean…" He rushed to the bed and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, not expecting the reaction Dean would give.

Dean jolted under his touch, his breathing speeding up, as he used his handcuffed hands to pull himself further away from Sam, his legs curling in until they touched his chest. As Dean's legs moved, Sam caught sight of the blood and—_was that semen?_—on the sheet just below Dean's crotch.

_Oh, gosh…he was…_

Tears fell down Sam's face as he sat on the bed.

"Dean…" Sam breathed. "Who did this?" Silence. "Dean, please, it's me. I need to get a good look at you to help you. I'm not going to hurt you."

Sam reached a hand forward and placed it on Dean's arm. Dean flinched a little, but allowed Sam to turn him onto his back. Dean looked up at Sam with wide, terrified, tear-stained eyes. A gag was tied very tightly around Dean's mouth. It was a wonder Dean could even breathe. Sam slowly reached forward and gently tilted Dean's head forward to get to the knot at the back of his head. Sam struggled with the knot with trembling fingers.

"Oh, gosh…Dean…" Sam cried, the tears flowing freely now. He finally managed to get the knot undone, and he removed the gag. Dean's head fell back onto the pillow, and he drew in shaky breaths. "Dean, who did this?" Dean didn't say anything, just closed his eyes and grimaced in anguish. Sam looked at the cuffs. "I'm gonna get you out of those." Sam stood up to go get his lock pick.

"SAMMY!" Dean exclaimed, his head whipping towards his brother, eyes unbelievably wide. "Don't leave me! Please! Don't go! Don't go!"

Sam knelt quickly by the bed, setting a hand on Dean's forehead. "Hey, hey, I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here. Nothing will ever get you again. I promise." Sam watched Dean settle slightly as he comforted him. Sam turned his head towards the door. "Bobby! Bring the lock pick! Someone broke into Dean's room!"

Bobby Singer could be heard moving downstairs. "What?! What happened? I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

Sam clenched his jaw. "No."

They heard Bobby run up the stairs, and their surrogate father appeared in the doorway. When he spotted Dean, his face fell.

"Holy mother of…" muttered Bobby, tears forming in his crinkled eyes. Dean closed his eyes and began crying again.

"Bobby, come on!" Sam urged him from his position next to Dean.

Bobby surged forward and inserted the lock pick into the cuffs. Once they were removed, Dean curled onto his side away from the other hunters, arms hugging his torso and legs curled up to his chest. Sam rushed around the bed and sat on the floor in front of Dean, placing an arm on his shoulder. Sam drew Dean towards himself, his long arms circling him. Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Sam, clinging to his little brother for dear life. Sobs shook the broken man as he cried into Sam's shoulder.

"Dean…gosh…I'm so sorry…" Sam told him. He comforted his brother for a few minutes. "Dean, we have to take you to the hospital." Sam didn't think it was possible, but Dean clasped onto him all the more. "I'm sorry. We have to…you're hurt. Please, do it for me."

Dean slowly loosened his grip and let Sam stand up. Sam grabbed Dean by the arms and helped him get out of bed. Dean's legs collapsed from under him, so Sam scooped Dean from the floor, one arm under his knees and one behind his back. As Sam carried him into the hall, Dean pressed his face into Sam's neck and wrapped his arms around him.

Tears began flowing again from Sam's eyes. He had never seen his brother like this. Dean was always the protector…the tough bad-ass hunter who took down demons, vampires, spirits and werewolves without hesitation, all the while making sure nothing ever hurt his Sammy. Now, Dean had been reduced to this sobbing wreck of a man, sending an anger towards the bastard who did this coursing through Sam. But he had to put that aside for now. Now, it was Sam that needed to be the protector.

"I got you, Dean," Sam told him as he made his way down the stairs and out the front door. Bobby opened the passenger door of the black 1967 Chevy Impala, and Sam slid Dean onto the leather seat. Sam rushed around the fender and got into the driver's seat. Dean slid over to him, and Sam slipped an arm around his distraught older brother. Sam started the car and drove one-handed at breakneck speed to the hospital. They pulled up to the ER doors, and Sam pulled Dean into his arms as he got out of the Impala. Sam rushed through the automatic doors.

"Help!" Sam called. "Somebody!"

A doctor ushered Sam towards a gurney as several nurses came over. Sam placed Dean on the gurney, clasping his hand as they moved the gurney down the hall.

"What happened?" asked the female doctor.

"Someone broke into our uncle's house sometime last night and raped him," Sam told them. "I have to stay with him. I'm his brother."

"What are your names?"

"I'm Sam Singer, and he's Dean," Sam supplied, giving them Bobby's surname for cover. They were still technically supposed to be legally dead, not to mention wanted by the law.

"Okay, Dean, we're gonna take care of you now, okay?"

Dean gave no reaction that he had heard; he just clamped onto Sam's hand harder.

They wheeled Dean to the ER, where they cleaned off the bodily fluids and gave him antibiotic cream. Once they attached an IV to the back of his hand, they wheeled him to his own private room.

Sam sat by Dean's bed as his brother slipped into sleep. Sam stroked Dean's hand as tears flowed down his face.

"I'm so sorry, Dean," said Sam, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dean twitched in his sleep, his brow furrowed in pain. He began rolling his head back and forth.

"No…" he mumbled.

Sam stood up and leaned over Dean.

"Stop it…" Dean moaned.

Sam didn't dare touch him in case it made the nightmare worse. "Dean, wake up."

Dean began thrashing in his bed. "No! Please! Don't hurt me!"

The heart monitor began screeching an alarm as Dean's heart rate and blood pressure skyrocketed. Several nurses came rushing in with syringes.

"No, wait!" Sam ordered. "It's just a nightmare!" The nurses froze as Sam leaned over Dean. "Dean, wake up." He took a chance and placed his hands on Dean's shoulders. As expected, Dean bucked violently, screaming. "Dean, it's Sammy! Please wake up!" He began stroking Dean's face, desperate to soothe him. Dean began to calm as he slowly woke. "That's it, bro. Look at me."

Dean opened wide eyes, gazing up at Sam. He immediately grasped Sam in a terrified hug. Sam hugged him back, waving off the nurses. When they had gone, Dean spoke.

"Sammy…"

"I know, Dean, I know."

"I'm scared, Sammy," Dean whimpered.

Sam clasped Dean tighter, tears falling down his face, scared for his brother. Their father taught them to never show any sign of weakness, and Dean had always followed every single one of their father's orders, even long after the man had died. The fact that Dean was actually saying he was scared out loud, this must have really shaken him.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam pleaded. "This shouldn't have happened. I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Dean told him. "Don't blame you."

He was speaking in phrases and short sentences. Dean was too traumatized to form a long, complex thought.

"I'm gonna take care of you," Sam assured him. "Nothing's gonna hurt you ever again."

Bobby walked into the room and stood by the doorway. Dean's grip on Sam tightened when he heard the footsteps.

"Hey, hey, it's just Bobby," said Sam as he pulled away so Dean could look at his visitor. "Is it okay for Bobby to be here?"

Dean looked at Bobby, his panic settling back down. His mouth was now clamped closed, and he nodded a little. Sam frowned as Dean looked apologetically at Bobby, the phrase "Sorry" in his green eyes.

"Don't worry about it, son," said Bobby. He slowly approached Dean and gently placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Mind if I sit in here for a while?"

Dean shook his head as his eyes drifted back over to Sam. He looked at Sam pleadingly.

"What is it, Dean?" Sam asked. "What do you need?" Dean glanced over at the pitcher of water on the table in the corner. "Thirsty?" Dean nodded. Sam got up and poured a small glass of water for Dean. He brought it over and helped Dean take a small sip. "Better?" Dean smiled slightly. "Good. Anything else?" Dean shook his head. "Okay. Let me know."

Sam noticed that Dean had only talked since his whole ordeal when it was just him and Sam. Bobby had once told him that was what happened after their mom died. Dean had stopped talking for a while, only talking to his baby brother when no one was around. Bobby once caught him standing next to Sam's crib, his tiny face pressed to the bars. The four-year-old had whispered to baby Sam, not noticing the older man in the doorway.

Once again, Dean was reverting back to that in light of one traumatizing event too many. It would take a while to get Dean back from this one. But Sam wouldn't give up.

After the nurses saw the calming effect that Sam had on Dean, they had talked to the doctor and had a cot brought into Dean's room for Sam to sleep on. There was no way they'd be splitting these two up any time soon. Sam had thanked them and promised he'd be good.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Over the next two days, Dean was showing good progress. He responded to and communicated with other people, albeit without vocalizing unless it was just Sam, and he was eating. The doctors told Sam that this was a good sign. It meant Dean actually wanted to heal and get past this instead of shutting down to avoid the pain. His physical injuries were also doing very well. No infections were setting in. Sam never left Dean's side except to use the bathroom in Dean's room. The only time Bobby left was at night when visiting hours were over. During the day, he fetched things for the brothers, including Sam's meals. The three of them were now facing the TV, watching the news out of the corner of their eyes as they tried to have some fun.

"No way, old man," Sam teased. "I could so take you."

Bobby scoffed. "I've been hunting since you were in diapers."

"At least I don't have to wear them anymore," Sam smiled. He caught Dean smiling out of the corner of his eye. If he and Bobby kept this up, maybe they could get something out of Dean.

Bobby seemed to catch on to what Sam was thinking, and he leaned forward. "No, you're right. They don't really make them in your size, Gigantor."

"Hey, the ladies like a tall man. Whereas, the last time you got out was, what…the Middle Ages?"

"Experience trumps youth, squirt."

Dean let out a laugh, smiling at the two of them. Bobby and Sam smiled at him and joined in with the laughing. Sam looked down at the floor as Dean quit laughing. The heart monitor started beeping frantically. Sam's head shot up. Dean was staring at the television, eyes widened in terror, hyperventilating and shaking. Sam stood up and placed his hands on Dean's shoulders.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked. "What's wrong?" Dean's eyes wouldn't leave the television, so Sam turned to see what was bothering him.

A news report was on. The text on the bottom read: Marcus Kinzer Breakout. On the right side of the screen, a mug shot of a scruffy, middle-aged man was displayed. Sam looked back at Dean to see his brother's eyes locked on that mug shot. Only one person would get this reaction out of Dean.

"Bobby, turn that thing off!" Sam ordered as he placed his hands on either side of Dean's face. "Dean, listen to me. Dean?" Dean still stared at the TV, the hyperventilating getting worse. Sam lowered the bed rail and climbed onto the bed next to Dean, wrapping his arms around him. Sam pulled Dean's head to his chest, placing a hand in his short-cropped hair. "He can't hurt you. I'm here. I'm not letting anything happen to you. Shh…" Dean sobbed into Sam's chest, clutching at his brother's shirt. "Shh…We'll tell the cops and they'll catch him. He can't get near you ever again."

Bobby nodded at Sam and left so Dean could talk to him.

"Dean…" Sam pressed, hating to ask. "The man on the TV…was that him?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Yes."

"You had a flashback?" Sam went on.

Dean nodded. "Don't leave me, Sammy. Don't leave me."

Sam leaned back against the bed, and Dean pressed himself closer to Sam, laying his head on Sam's chest. Sam wrapped his right arm around Dean's shoulders, placing his left hand on Dean's head. It made Sam think of when the two of them were kids: Sam would have a bad dream, and Dean would climb into his bed to chase away the nightmares. Now was the time to return the favor. After a few minutes, Dean drifted off, his shallow breaths evening out.

Bobby poked his head in. "He okay now?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered. "Tell the cops that it was Marcus Kinzer that raped Dean."

"Okay," said Bobby. He left the room, and Sam slowly fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sam awoke to Bobby shaking him awake gently. "Bobby? What time is it?"

"Ten a.m.," Bobby answered. "The two of you slept all night." Sam looked down at Dean, who had a hand laid protectively over Sam's heart.

Sam smiled. _Even when he's broken down, he's still gotta be the big brother._

"I have some good news," Bobby told him. Sam looked up at him. "Marcus Kinzer is dead."

"Dead?"

"He tried resisting arrest…really tried. They had to take him down."

"That'll make Dean feel better."

"I'll let you tell him," Bobby said. He left.

Sam looked down at his big brother's sleeping face. The worry lines and fear had been erased to be replaced by the peace of a good night's sleep. Sam hated to wake Dean and bring back the pain.

"Dean," Sam coaxed. Dean's mouth twitched as he snuggled his head on Sam's chest slightly. Sam moved his hand onto Dean's head. "Dean, wake up."

Dean peeked his eyes open and looked up at Sam. "Sammy?"

Sam noticed that Dean hadn't addressed him as anything but Sammy since this all began. He smiled. "Hey, I got some good news." Dean seemed to perk up slightly. "They caught Marcus. He resisted arrest, and they killed him."

Dean's mouth quirked into a slight smile at the corners. "He's dead?"

"Yeah, he's dead," Sam replied as he hugged Dean close.

Dean slumped against Sam in relief. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

Sam realized that Dean was thanking God. Had Dean prayed for some type of justice or comfort? As far as he knew, Dean wasn't the praying type.

"You're gonna be alright," said Sam. "It's over now."

Dr. Roberts walked into the room. "I take it you told him."

"Yeah," said Sam as Dean sat up. Dean looked at Sam, silently communicating with him. Sam smiled. "I think Dean wants to know when he can leave."

Dr. Roberts laughed. "Well, we've held him here long enough for medical purposes. He's healing very nicely. As long as he feels up to leaving, it's fine by me."

Dean darted up from the bed, shifting through the duffel by the wall. Sam laughed as the doctor left.

"Dean, it's okay," Sam told him. "Don't rush. Take your time."

Sam came over to help Dean with his duffel. He placed his hand on Dean's back where the hospital gown was parted slightly, causing Sam to touch Dean's bare skin. Dean jumped away from Sam, dropping his duffel and breathing fast. Sam held his hands out in front of him.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam apologized. Dean relaxed as he put a hand to his face. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "Sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize," said Sam. "It's not your fault." Sam wrapped Dean into a tight hug. They held each other for a long moment. "So much for no chick-flick moments, huh?" Dean chuckled a little as Sam pulled away. "I'll let you change."

"Sammy?" Dean called, and Sam turned. Dean moved to the bathroom. "Will you…"

Sam smiled. Dean didn't want to be exposed in such a big area. He wanted as small of a room as he could get with Sam standing guard outside the door. "Sure."

Dean shuffled into the bathroom, closing and locking the door. Sam stood against the door, shuffling his feet for a moment to assure Dean that he was, indeed, standing there. Dr. Roberts entered the room, her footsteps echoing around the room.

"Hello, Dr. Roberts," Sam said clearly, letting Dean know who had entered the room. "Dean's changing."

Dr. Roberts took notice of how Sam was guarding the door and nodded. "In that case, I'll discuss your brother's follow-up exam with you."

"Okay," said Sam, leaning back against the doorframe.

Dr. Roberts set a bottle of ointment on the bedside table. "Dean needs to use this on the affected area once a day directly after bathing. Make sure he keeps to it." She then placed a bottle of prescription pills next to the ointment. "These are only to be taken if he needs them. I don't suspect he will; he seems to be recovering remarkably well. Only give them to him in an emergency situation. On top of that, do the two of you have a stable home to stay at for a while?"

"Yeah," Sam told her. "We're staying at our uncle's house."

She paused. "Is that where the attack happened?"

Sam frowned, eyes downcast. "Yes."

"I recommend moving Dean as far away from his bedroom as possible. I would also advise you to lock that room and don't let anyone, especially Dean, inside. Now, as for you, never stray too far from your brother. He'll be fine wandering the house by himself, but don't leave the house without him and don't let him leave without you. I've seen the way you two are with each other. The two of you have a unique and strong bond. This is good for Dean. You are acting as a catalyst for his recovery process. Be very careful with everything you do. Watch whatever you do or say. Your brother needs you now more than ever."

"Of course," said Sam.

"I want to see Dean a month from today," she said. "Pretty routine. I just want to see how he is recovering mentally and physically. This is where you come in. As discreetly as possible, I would like you to keep a journal on Dean's mental and emotional progress. It doesn't need to be detailed, but I would like something that you can show and discuss with me at the time of your visit. Also, record if anything significant happens physically."

Dean opened the door and came out in jeans and a black T-shirt. He had his hospital pants and gown balled up in his fist.

"You're looking great, Dean," said Dr. Roberts. "You're free to go. I've spoken with Sam, and he'll explain everything on your way home."

Dean nodded his gratitude as he stayed behind Sam.

"Thanks for everything, Doctor," Sam replied.

"I wish you both well," said Dr. Roberts. "See you in a month." She walked out of the room.

Dean tossed the hospital garments onto the bed. "A month?"

"It's just a follow-up exam," Sam explained. "It'll be the only one you have to go to. She just wants to make sure you're healing well. Then you won't have to come back again." Sam approached the table and picked up the bottle and the ointment. "This ointment is for…uh…you know." Dean looked up at him and then down at the ointment. He squirmed a little as he realized what Sam was talking about. "She says to use it once a day immediately after a shower."

Sam hid the bottle of pills behind his back. No need to show Dean these if he didn't need them yet. As Dean turned away from Sam to put on his jacket, Sam looked at the bottle, his eyes widening.

_Anti-depressants?_ Sam thought in shock. There is no way he was giving these to Dean, even if he did get depressed. It just wasn't right. He tossed the bottle into his own duffle and got some socks and shoes for Dean.

Dean slipped the socks on, and Sam put his boots on, tying them up. He grabbed Dean's duffel and his own duffel. As they approached the door, Sam noticed Dean was hesitating. Sam shuffled both of the duffels onto his left shoulder and silently held his hand out to Dean. Dean hesitated before taking Sam's hand, an embarrassed look on his face.

"It's okay, Dean," Sam assured him. "I understand." Dean nodded as he smiled a little. "You ready?"

"Yeah, Sammy," said Dean.

As Sam opened the door, Dean's grip on Sam's hand tightened. He hadn't been out in public since the incident. Sam slowly led Dean into the hallway, trying to shield him from the people bustling about. Dean hovered near Sam's shoulder, clasping tight onto his hand. Sam quickly ushered the two of them through the hallway and to the elevator. A small crowd of people stood waiting for the car, and when it came, Sam didn't move.

"We'll get the next one," Sam told the puzzled doctor at the front of the car. The doctor shrugged as the doors closed. Dean looked at his brother, giving him his silent thanks. "Don't mention it."

The next car came, and the two of them got in. Fortunately, no one else got in with them. Sam wasn't sure how Dean would do in a confined space with other people just yet. He was still getting used to other people in general. As the doors opened into the lobby, Sam gently pulled Dean towards the doors. Dean followed Sam towards the parking lot, his eyes darting this way and that way. Sam fumbled with the keys as he tried to keep their duffels on his left shoulder. He unlocked the Impala's passenger door when he reached it, and ushered Dean down into the seat. Dean immediately locked the door once it was closed, his arms hugging his torso. Sam quickly loaded the duffels into the trunk and hurried to the driver's door. He climbed in and started the car, turning on some classic rock to ease Dean's discomfort.

"Thanks, Sammy," said Dean.

Sam looked at him, a frown splayed across his face. "For what?"

"Being here," replied Dean.

"I'm your brother," said Sam. "It's my job, right?"

Dean smiled as he allowed the music to soothe him slightly. Sam quickly made the drive towards Bobby's house.

* * *

Bobby's head popped up from his work when he heard the Impala's engine getting close. He made the final adjustments on the lock on Dean's door, making sure no one could ever open it again. He had resented going into the room after what had happened in there. Bobby had grabbed the sheets from the bed, taken them out back, and salted and burned them for good measure. The room held a horrible aura around it now, and Bobby couldn't stand being inside. He had made sure to set up other sleeping arrangements for Dean, far away from this room.

Bobby headed for the front door, opening it to find Sam on the passenger's side. Bobby stayed back to help Dean feel comfortable with the place. Bobby didn't take offense that Sam was the only one Dean felt truly comfortable around. He knew that those two had been looking out for each other their whole lives, and it was only natural that one would be the other's anchor when times were bad. Dean slowly got out of the Impala, gazing uncertainly at the house. Bobby watched Sam ask him something, probably along the lines of "Do you want to stay somewhere else?" Dean shook his head and looked up at the house, determined.

_That boy sure was stubborn,_ Bobby thought. No matter what trauma Dean had been through, he seemed determined not to let it break him. Sam silently held his hand out, and Dean took it without a second thought. Sam helped his brother towards the house.

"Hey, Dean," Bobby greeted him. "Feel better?" Dean nodded, still only talking to Sam. "That's great." He lowered his voice for only Sam to hear. "I put him in your room. Thought he might feel safer there."

"Thanks, Bobby," said Sam.

"You're welcome," Bobby told him. Sam helped Dean into the house, and they headed straight for their room. Bobby stayed in the living room, giving the eldest Winchester some space.

* * *

"We're staying in my room," said Sam as he led Dean down the hallway. As they neared the door to Dean's old room, Dean stopped suddenly, hyperventilating. He face paled as he stared at the floor. Sam pulled him into his arms. "It's okay. The door's locked. No one can get in or out. You won't ever have to go in there again. I'm here. I won't let you get hurt again."

Sam felt Dean nod into his shoulder, and they proceeded past the door. Once they were past it, Dean's breathing evened out and he looked up at Sam.

"Sorry," said Dean.

"Hey, it's not your fault," said Sam. "I'm just sorry there wasn't another bedroom closer down the hall so you wouldn't have to walk past that one."

Dean smiled. "Thanks."

Sam opened the door to their room, and looked at the second bed that Bobby had set up next to Sam's bed. "Wow. Bobby sure went all out."

Dean looked in and saw that Bobby had set the beds close to each other, with only a few inches separating them. "Sammy…"

"Yeah?" Sam asked, looking at Dean.

"Tell Bobby thanks," said Dean.

Sam smiled. "I will." He set their duffels on the beds, and looked up at Dean. "Do you want to…head out to the living room, or…"

"Stay here," Dean said, still speaking only in phrases. "Rest."

"Okay," said Sam. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"You go," said Dean.

Sam could tell that Dean didn't want Sam to feel compelled to always hang around Dean. "It's okay, I can stay."

"No, I'm fine," said Dean. "Go ahead."

"I'll be just down the hall in the living room, okay?" said Sam. Dean nodded. Sam left the room, leaving the door open in case Dean called for him. He sat down on Bobby's couch as Bobby brought him a beer. "Thanks, Bobby. Dean says thanks for the bed, by the way."

"Tell him he's welcome," said Bobby. "How's he doing?"

"He'll have some trouble walking past that door, but…as good as can be expected, I guess." Sam pulled a notebook out of his backpack, grabbing a pen.

"What's that?"

"The doctor wants me to keep a journal about Dean for when we go back for Dean's appointment. She wants to know how Dean's coping…mentally."

"Makes sense," said Bobby. "Let me know if you boys need anything."

"Will do, Bobby."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Dean woke up with a full bladder. He glanced over at Sam, who lay on the other bed, fast asleep. Dean climbed out of bed and unlocked the door, pushing the chair out of the way. Last night, Sam had locked their bedroom door, shoved a chair under the door handle, and salted the door and window. Dean hated to admit it, but it made him feel safe. How could he have let this happen? He should have been able to fight Marcus off. How could he have let that bastard break him down and make him vulnerable? He was a failure. A Winchester wasn't supposed to let someone get the jump on them.

Dean pushed those thoughts aside and walked into the hallway. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, but to get to it, he had to pass…the door.

_Okay, no big deal…_ Dean thought. _I can do this. It's just a door._

Dean took a deep breath and contemplated just waiting for Sam to wake up. Eventually, his bladder won out, and Dean took hesitant steps in that direction. As he got closer to his old bedroom, his pulse pounded harder and harder. He took steady breaths to calm himself, willing his eyes not to look at the door as he passed it. However, his wandering eyes got the better of him.

_Stupid eyes._

The second his eyes lighted on the locked door, his memory took over. The feel of rough hands on his hips, the handcuffs digging into his skin as he struggled, the pleasure-filled moans coming from the attacker, the sobs breaking from Dean's throat, the man breaching Dean as he thrust into him, the semen running down his legs—

Dean jumped away from the door, running into a table and knocking it over. He went down on top of the table, hitting his forearm on the corner of the table. He yelled in pain as he pressed himself into the wall, trying to get away from the horrible, nightmare-inducing room.

* * *

Sam jerked awake when he heard the crash and the yell.

"Dean!" he yelled as he darted into the hallway.

The table was knocked over, and Dean sat against the wall, scrambling to get away from something. Sam spotted the locked door, and everything clicked. Sam rushed forward and pulled Dean into his arms, pulling him off the floor. Sam took him into the bathroom and shut the door. He placed Dean on the edge of the bathtub.

"Dean, why didn't you wait for me?" Sam asked as he hugged Dean close.

"Had to go," Dean replied.

"You could've woken me up," Sam told him.

"Didn't want to," Dean replied as he gripped Sam tighter. He hissed in pain.

"What is it?" asked Sam as he pulled back to look at his brother. "Are you hurt?"

Dean nodded. "Hit the table." He lifted his arm, which had blood running down it.

"Damn, Dean," muttered Sam as he took Dean's arm. There was a gash on the top of his arm near the elbow. "We gotta clean this up." He stood up, fishing the med kit out of the cabinet. He spotted Dean squirming on his seat, and remembered the reason Dean had wandered into the hall in the first place. "After I give you a minute."

Sam walked out of the bathroom and closed the door. Bobby was picked up the table.

"Is he okay?" Bobby asked.

"He had to use the bathroom, but didn't want to wake me, so he tried to get here by himself," Sam explained. "I guess passing that door was just too much. He's got a good gash on his arm, but he'll be fine." He heard the toilet flush and a cabinet being knocked on twice. He took that as an "I'm done" sign. "Excuse me."

Sam came back in to find Dean sitting on the counter with the open med kit next to him. Sam closed the door and turned on the faucet. He gently lifted Dean's arm over the sink and cupped his hand under the water, making sure it wasn't too hot. Sam took the pooled water in his hand and dumped it over Dean's arm, washing the blood off. Once it was clean, Sam sanitized the cut and started stitching. When he was done, Dean smiled at him.

"Feel better?" asked Sam.

"Loads," Dean told him. His face scrunched up in disgust, and he lowered his head, sniffing his shirt. "Need a shower."

"I'll bet," said Sam. "I'll get your stuff." He went back to the room, grabbing a bar of soap, Dean's shampoo, and a fresh change of clothes. He brought them back and handed it all to Dean. "There are towels under the sink. Oh, and…" Sam fished the ointment out of his pocket. "For…yeah…I'll be in the living room."

Sam left Dean to his shower, and headed for the living room. Bobby was in the kitchen, making breakfast. Sam flopped down at the table, leaning on his elbow.

"Everything go okay?" asked Bobby. Sam didn't answer. "Sam?"

"Why, Bobby?" asked Sam. "Why Dean? He's been through enough already. I mean, he just got back from hell, and now he has to go through this? Why does everything have to happen to us? Can't we ever get a break?" Sam looked up at Bobby, tears in his eyes. "This shouldn't have happened. After everything…I should've protected him better. I should have stopped it. I should've killed that guy myself."

Bobby came over and wrapped Sam in a hug as Sam finally let the guilt-ridden tears come.

* * *

Dean opened the bathroom door and walked into the living room, carrying his clothes and shower items. Bobby was setting food on the table as Sam helped him. Dean set his things down and walked up to Sam, the question in his eyes.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, sure, um…how about you put the silverware on the table."

Dean opened a drawer and pulled out knives, forks and spoons. He set one of each at each plate. They sat down and dug in.

* * *

**Two weeks later…**

Dean had come along nicely since the attack. He could now pass the bedroom door just fine…if Sam was with him. He seemed to be cheering up slightly, but he still flinched at sudden noises and didn't like anyone to walk up behind him without announcing themselves first.

Bobby had made French toast this morning, and Sam was sitting at the table across from Dean as they ate. Sam had been trying to find a way to bring up his idea.

"Dean, I was thinking," said Sam. Dean looked up at him. "Do you wanna go see a movie tonight?" He watched as Dean's expression dropped. "It's been out for a while, so the theatre should be practically empty." Dean considered, smiled and nodded. He reached his hand for his glass of orange juice to find it empty.

"I'll get that, Dean," Bobby said as he got up, grabbing Dean's glass. He refilled it with orange juice, and set it in front of Dean, turning to put the juice in the fridge.

"Thanks, Bobby."

Sam's head snapped up and stared in astonishment at Dean. Had he really just spoken to Bobby? Bobby turned and looked at Dean, smiling.

"You're welcome, Dean," Bobby told him. As Dean went back to his breakfast, Bobby and Sam shared a triumphant smile.

Sam looked back at Dean, who had dropped his fork. He was staring at the table, his face a little pale. "Are you okay?"

Dean suddenly darted from the table and towards the bathroom. Sam and Bobby followed to find Dean kneeling in front of the toilet, vomiting his breakfast into the bowl. Sam knelt next to Dean, putting a hand on his back.

"What's wrong?" asked Sam.

"Don't know," Dean moaned in between heaves. "Nauseous. Something I ate?"

"Then we'd be sick, too," Sam said, motioning to Bobby and himself.

"Stomach bug?" Dean muttered as the dry heaves subsided.

"Do you need some medicine?" asked Sam.

"No, it's passed," said Dean as he leaned against the tub. "Just rest."

"Here, go rest on the bed," said Sam. He helped Dean up and to their bedroom. "We'll cancel the movie, let you rest."

"No," said Dean.

"You still want to go?" asked Sam. Dean nodded. "Well, we'll see how you feel in three hours."

"Okay," Dean muttered as he rolled over, getting comfortable.

Sam walked out into Bobby's yard. He had no idea what was happening to his brother, and he prayed it had nothing to do with the attack. Sam stared up at the sky.

"What is this, huh?" Sam shouted to the heavens. "This is your great plan? You save Dean from hell, saying you have work for him? And then you let something like this happen? Why? Why didn't you save Dean?"

"We did," came a voice behind him. Sam spun around to see a man in a trench coat and a suit. He had a stoic expression on his face. "He is still destined to do much."

"You're Castiel, aren't you?" asked Sam. The angel nodded slightly. "Then why didn't you stop Marcus before he hurt Dean?"

"Human affairs are out of our influence," said Castiel.

"Out of your influence?" Sam repeated, credulously.

"We cannot affect free will," said Castiel.

"That's crap," said Sam. "You could've saved him, and you know it."

Castiel looked at him. "I am sorry."

Sam sighed in exasperation. "Then heal him."

"Heal him?"

"Make him feel better. Make the pain go away."

"I can't."

"Bullshit," Sam spat at him.

"I cannot take the pain away. He must go through this. God is blessing him."

Sam stared at him. "What?"

"God is turning this curse into a blessing. Something good will come out of this."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Sam. He suddenly found himself staring at empty air. He looked around; Castiel was gone. "Perfect."

* * *

Sam roused Dean from his sleep. "Hey, wake up."

Dean blinked up at him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We going to the movie yet?"

"Yeah, you look better," Sam told him. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing," said Dean as he sat up and smiled. "Whatever it was went away. Maybe my toast was bad."

Sam laughed at Dean's joke—his first one since the attack. "Yeah, maybe. Let's go." Dean climbed out of bed, and they walked to the living room.

"See you later, Bobby," Sam called as they made their way to the front door. Sam noticed the lack of footsteps next to his. He turned to see Dean frozen halfway to the door. "What's the matter? Do you wanna stay here?"

Dean shook his head, and turned to Bobby. "Do you want to come with us, Bobby?"

Bobby smiled at Dean. "Sure, sounds like fun."

Together, the three of them headed out for the movies.

* * *

**Two weeks later…**

Dean still hadn't recovered from whatever was wrong with his stomach. Sam was getting worried. Dean woke up every morning for the past two weeks, and went straight for the bathroom, throwing up. Sometimes, he would run to the bathroom several times a day. Today was Dean's appointment, and Sam had especially noted Dean's poor health in his journal. They hadn't resorted to the anti-depressants, which Sam never would anyway. As they entered the doctor's office, Dr. Roberts spotted them.

"Sam, Dean, come on back," said Dr. Roberts. "It's a slow day."

Sam held onto Dean's hand as they walked to the exam room and sat down.

"How are you, Dean?" asked Dr. Roberts. Dean smiled at her, letting her know that he was fine. "That's great." If you wouldn't mind waiting here, I've got to get some equipment. Sam, can you help me?"

"Yeah, sure," said Sam, catching her drift. "Will you be fine here for a minute?" Dean nodded, and the two of them left the room.

"How's he doing?" asked Dr. Roberts.

Sam pulled out his journal. "He's doing better. He's opening up more, talking more. He started speaking to Bobby two weeks ago. We all went to the movies together. He did alright. But…he's been getting sick lately."

"Sick how?" asked Dr. Roberts.

"He's been throwing up nonstop for the past two weeks," said Sam. "At first, we thought it was something he ate, then we thought it was a stomach bug. Now, I'm not so sure. He's always so tired and aching. I'm worried."

Dr. Roberts stared at him. "Okay…I think I have some tests that I can do. Sam…I hate to ask this of you, but you're the only one he'll talk to."

"What is it?" asked Sam.

"I need you to ask Dean if Marcus used protection."

Sam stared at her. "What?"

"Please, ask him. I know it's difficult, but I need to know. It could help with what's going on with Dean."

"Okay, I'll try, but I'm not promising anything," said Sam. He entered the exam room to find Dean where they left him. "Hey, Dean. I have a question to ask you."

"What, Sammy?" asked Dean.

"It's kind of uncomfortable," Sam told him. "It's about Marcus." Dean froze, his eyes wide. "Dean, did he…did he use protection?" Dean closed his eyes. "Please, Dean. We need to know."

Dean took a deep breath. "No. No, I don't think so."

Sam hugged Dean. "Thank you, Dean. That really helps." Sam walked out to the doctor. "He doesn't think he did."

"Okay, that narrows down my tests," said Dr. Roberts. She handed him a blood pressure cuff, and she grabbed a machine on wheels.

"You can't put this cuff on the cart?" asked Sam.

"So he doesn't get suspicious," said Dr. Roberts. Sam nodded as he realized that Dean expected Sam to come back with something. They entered the exam room. Dean appeared to be doing fine, if not a little shaken from Sam's question. "Dean, I need you to lie back and lift up your shirt." Both Sam and Dean stared at her, confused. "It's to assess if there are any internal problems."

Dean frowned, but complied, lifting his shirt as he lay back.

Dr. Roberts lifted a bottle of gel. "Now, this will be cold, okay?"

Dean nodded, and she squirted some onto Dean's abdomen. Dean jumped a little at the coldness of the gel. Dr. Roberts placed the wand on the gel and smeared it around on Dean's stomach. She looked at the screen on her ultrasound machine, reading the screen. She frowned as she lifted the wand from Dean's abdomen. She handed a towel to Dean, and he wiped himself off.

"So?" asked Sam.

"It's impossible…" muttered Dr. Roberts. "It's just not possible…"

"Doctor?" asked Sam.

"I don't know how this happened, but..." Dr. Roberts looked at Sam, "Dean's pregnant."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"He's what?" asked Sam.

"He's pregnant," Dr. Roberts told them.

"But…Dean's a guy," Sam told her.

"Believe me, I know how ridiculous it sounds. It's not biologically possible, but…there's no doubt about it." She looked at Dean. "You're pregnant."

Sam just stared at her. "How?"

"I don't know," said Dr. Roberts. "You guys don't happen to be hunters, do you?"

Sam hesitated. "Yeah."

"Figures. I've had a few hunters come through here before. Maybe this was caused by something…in your area of expertise…" She trailed off, frowning at Dean. "Dean?"

Sam turned and looked at his brother. Dean was staring straight ahead, not moving. Sam placed his hands on Dean's shoulders. "Dean?" Dean didn't give a single reaction. "Dean, snap out of it." Dean just sat there. "What happened to him?"

"I think this last surprise was just too much after this past month," Dr. Roberts told him. "It's the shock. He's slipped into a catatonic state."

Tears filled Sam's eyes as he looked back at Dean. "No…" Sam pulled Dean into his arms. "What can we do?"

"I'm afraid the only thing we can do is wait for him to snap out of it on his own."

Tears fell down Sam's face as he held Dean close. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry."

"Sam, we need to get him hooked up to an IV," said Dr. Roberts, "since he can't feed himself."

Sam nodded, and scooped Dean into his arms. Dean's head sank onto Sam's chest, and his arms hung limp from his body. Dr. Roberts guided him to an empty room, where she left Sam to get Dean comfortable. Sam pulled his boots off along with his jacket. He hesitated before undoing Dean's jeans.

"Sorry, Dean," said Sam. "I'll make it quick."

He quickly switched the jeans for hospital scrub pants. He laid Dean in the hospital bed, pulling the blanket over his legs. Dr. Roberts came into the room and hung the IV bag next to Dean's bed, inserting the needle into the back of his hand. Sam sat by his brother's bed as they attached a heart monitor. An hour later, his cell phone startled him.

"Hello?" Sam answered.

"What's taking you two so long?" Bobby asked.

"Oh, gosh, Bobby," said Sam. "I completely forgot."

Bobby picked up the sorrow in Sam's tone. "What happened? Is Dean alright?"

"We're at the hospital," Sam told him, and hung up. He couldn't tell him over the phone. He stared at Dean for twenty minutes until he heard someone at the door.

"My gosh," said Bobby, staring at Dean. "What happened?"

"He went into shock," Sam told him, "after what the doctor told us."

"What'd she tell you?"

Sam looked at him. "Dean's pregnant."

"That's impossible," Bobby told him.

"She did an ultrasound, Bobby. Think about it, Dean's symptoms fit: tired all the time, aching…morning sickness…"

"My gosh," said Bobby. "How?"

"I think I know how," said Sam. He looked up at the ceiling. "Castiel, I know you can hear me."

"Yes, Sam?" the angel asked as he appeared at the foot of Dean's bed.

"This is what you meant by blessing?" asked Sam. "Impregnating Dean?"

"It is his deepest wish…to have a family of his own," said Castiel. "Even more so after his encounter with Ben a year ago."

"But his body isn't meant to carry a baby!"

"Nothing is impossible with God."

"So God chooses to have Dean father the child of a rapist?"

"No."

Sam frowned, unsure if he heard the angel right. "What?"

"Marcus Kinzer will have no relation to the child. The child will share Dean's DNA, but God chose someone else to provide the other half of the DNA."

"Who?"

"Someone close to Dean. Someone that Dean sees as the perfect embodiment of innocence and love. His only living blood relative."

Sam's eyes widened. "Me?"

"Yes."

Sam stared at him. "That's…just weird."

"God saw you as the perfect choice. I hope you will not disappoint."

Castiel disappeared, leaving Sam and Bobby standing in the room, stunned. Sam turned and stared at Dean's stomach, where their unborn child lay nestled inside him.

"This is…creepy," Sam admitted. He sighed as he looked at Bobby. "Our lives are weird."

"Tell me about it," said Bobby.

* * *

**Two weeks later…**

Dean was growing more pale and skinny with each passing day. His cheekbones stuck out of his face and his ribs were starting to make an appearance. Dr. Roberts was getting worried. If they didn't get Dean to start eating soon, neither he nor the baby would make it. And the morning sickness was not fun. Every time Dean's body began to convulse, Sam would have to lean Dean's body over and hold a bucket under his face until he was done puking. Sam would place Dean back on the bed and clean his mouth off.

"Sam, please see if you can get him to eat," said Dr. Roberts. "In cases where the pregnant woman doesn't eat enough, she goes into a coma, and there's little chance that she wakes up. We are very close to that happening to Dean. Please try." She held out a bowl of applesauce, thinking it best to start without solid foods.

"I'll try," said Sam as he grabbed the bowl. He entered Dean's room and sat down on his bed, holding the bowl in front of him. "Dean…you need to eat. I mean, you…not eating? The world's coming to an end." Sam laughed a little, trying to get Dean to hear him. He held a spoonful up to Dean's mouth. "How 'bout it? I bet you're starving."

Dean didn't so much as bat an eye at him. Sam lowered the spoon, frowning.

"Dean, please," begged Sam. "They said you could slip into a coma. I know how much you hate hospitals. If you don't eat, they'll keep you here forever." He lifted the spoon to Dean's impassive lips. "Please eat. If not for you or me…then for the baby."

Sam waited, holding his breath to see if it would work.

* * *

_Pregnant…pregnant…pregnant…pregnant…_

That word echoed over and over in his head, clanging around in the corners and crevices of his mind.

_Impossible…_

He processed that word, fighting his mind with what he knew to be true. Men can't get pregnant. It's just another way that he's totally fucked up his life. Not only had he let that sick bastard take advantage of him, but now he was carrying the monster's offspring. Leave it to Dean Winchester to get supernaturally pregnant by another man.

Dean could hear people trying to talk to him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Everything seemed to come at him from a long tunnel, never really reaching him. He wasn't really aware of how long he'd been stuck in this way, but it felt like forever. There had been a moment when Dean had felt a calming presence surrounding him, and a familiar voice had broken through for a second, saying something about God's blessing.

Now, another familiar voice was speaking to him. Usually, the voices were drowned out before they could get to him, but this voice was different. The way it was talking, it seemed…sad. Curiosity took over, and the voice zoomed into clarity.

"How 'bout it? I bet you're starving."

_Am I? I don't really know._

Dean didn't know what hunger felt like anymore. He'd cut himself off from everything to shield himself from any more pain.

"Dean, please. They said you could slip into a coma."

_Aren't I already? Isn't that what you would call this?_

"I know how much you hate hospitals."

_Understatement. Wait…I'm in the hospital?_

"If you don't eat, they'll keep you here forever."

_Forever? Really? They can do that? Oh, well, it's not like I care anyway. So what if I stay here forever? At least I won't get hurt again. I mean, look at me. I'm a pathetic mess._

"Please eat. If not for you or me…then for the baby."

There it was again: baby. His messed-up, supernaturally conceived baby. Dean had no clue what condition he was in, but the baby couldn't be fairing any better. A sudden fear sprouted in Dean…a fear for the safety of his child.

_But that guy raped me and knocked me up. This baby is __**his**__ child, not mine._

Dean began thinking about letting himself slip into a coma to get rid of the baby, but his mind and heart began protesting. He couldn't kill this child; it was his lifeline, his flesh and blood. A human being was growing inside him, relying on his body to nourish and protect it.

_Oh, gosh…What have I done? Is it too late to save my baby?_

Dean didn't know how to command his body to do it, but he realized he needed to eat…now.

* * *

Sam waited for Dean to catch on or ignore him. After what seemed like forever, Dean's jaw dropped, opening his mouth. Sam's face lit up as he carefully guided the spoon into Dean's mouth. He waited for a moment until Dean's lips closed. He slid the empty spoon out, and waited for Dean to swallow. He could see Dean's tongue slowly meshing the applesauce around. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. His mouth opened as he waited for another spoonful.

"Good job, Dean," Sam told him, smiling. He got another small amount on the spoon and fed it to Dean, as he waited for Dean to swallow, Bobby came in, wide-eyed.

"How'd you get him to eat?" asked Bobby.

Sam smiled. "I told him they'd keep him here forever if he didn't. But, I think it was the 'eating for the baby' bit that got through to him."

"Good job, Sam," said Bobby. He watched as Sam fed Dean two more spoonfuls. Dean began moving his tongue in his mouth.

"What is it, Dean?" asked Sam. Dean didn't respond. "Let's try this: blink once for yes and twice for no. Understand?" Sam waited patiently until Dean's eyes slowly closed and opened. Sam smiled; Dean was communicating with him. "Are you thirsty?" Dean's eyes slowly blinked once.

Sam got up and poured a half a glass of water into a Styrofoam cup. He sat back down next to Dean and tilted his head back a little. He placed the cup to his brother's lips and tilted some water into his mouth. Dean swallowed and Sam lowered the cup.

"You want more to eat?" asked Sam. Dean blinked once. Sam continued to feed him.

* * *

**One week later…**

"Well, he can go home today," said Dr. Roberts. "He's been eating without the IV for a week now, and there's no further harm to him or the baby. He's gonna be fine."

"Thanks, Dr. Roberts," said Sam. He looked over at Dean. He was still eating. True, Sam had to feed him, but he was eating. Sam also ushered Dean to the bathroom. Dean could use the bathroom on his own, but Sam had to wash his hands for him.

Sam walked over to Dean. "You get to go home today. I gotta get you changed first. Is that okay?"

Dean blinked once, and Sam stood him up. Dean stood in front of Sam, staring straight ahead. Sam pulled Dean's scrubs down, lifting his legs to get them off. It was a harder time getting the jeans on, but they were finally on. Sam slid Dean's arms into his leather jacket and put it over his shoulders. He sat Dean on the hospital bed and put his socks on. He placed Dean's right foot in a boot, and placed the foot on his leg. He did up the laces, and did the same for the left foot. Bobby grabbed Sam's duffel as Sam stood Dean up. Sam placed Dean's hand on Sam's forearm, and he placed his other hand on top of Dean's.

"Ready, Dean?" asked Sam. Dean blinked once, and Sam began leading him slowly into the hallway. He kept one eye on the hallway in front of them and one eye on Dean's feet. He needed to catch Dean if he stumbled or tripped, or if his legs simply gave out under him. It was slow moving, but they finally got to the Impala. Sam put his hand on Dean's head to make sure he didn't hit his head, and he helped Dean into the passenger seat. He reached over and buckled his seatbelt. Sam came to the other side and started the car, pulling away from the hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Two weeks later…**

Dean wasn't improving. Not that he was regressing, but he wasn't progressing. Sam still had to feed him, and he only communicated through blinks. Sam checked on him every hour to see if he needed a bathroom run or anything else. Sam brought him to the kitchen for meals, but Dean would want to go straight back to the bedroom afterwards. Dean was still in his first trimester, being only two months and one week along, so he still had troubles with morning sickness.

Right now, Sam was driving the Impala back to Bobby's house with Dean in the passenger seat. It was a Sunday morning, and Sam had taken him out for breakfast.

"Sammy."

Sam's head snapped over to Dean, eyes wide. Dean hadn't spoken in over a month. Dean was pointing to a church ahead of them on their right.

"You want to go in?" asked Sam, surprised.

Dean gave a barely imperceptible nod. Sam slowed and turned into the parking lot. First praying and now a church service? What was Dean up to?

Sam parked the car and came to Dean's door, opening it and helping him out. He guided Dean up the stairs, making sure he didn't trip. He opened the door and pulled Dean inside. The service was just starting. Sam helped Dean sit in one of the back pews. The worship center was three quarters full. They were singing a song titled "Shout to the Lord." Sam glanced over at Dean. His brother was staring at the stage, not moving once again. After that song, they sang "Days of Elijah," "Hallelujah," "I Surrender All," and "In the Sweet By and By." The worship leader had stopped between the second and third song to speak to the congregation.

"God is wonderful, isn't He?" he said. "My family had these two children from India at our house this week, and we decided to throw them a birthday party 'cause they'd never had one. We had a huge cake and ice cream and people over and presents. My wife and I had pooled some money together and bought the boys bikes. My two oldest kids got some money and bought them helium Mylar balloons. They were just staggered. They were so happy. And then as the sun set, I saw a hot air balloon on the horizon. I yelled for the boys so we could watch it. They had never seen one. I'm yelling for my wife to get the camera. Then they begin flying right over our house. I'm standing there going, 'Wow, God! You're amazing!' The guy leans over and yells down, 'Can we land here?' We say, 'Yeah!'

"So, they land, and it's not a balloon for Budweiser or anything. It's a rainbow. Then, just when I think God can't top this, the guy says, 'You wanna go for a ride?' It's amazing…that God sent that hot air balloon…on that day…just for them." (A/N: My worship leader actually had this happen to him!)

After the songs, the pastor Josh Brian came onto the stage. He was in his thirties, and had a smile on his face. He began his message. It was about potential. He told the congregation about God's plan for each of us, and that God has a special purpose for every person in the audience, even if they think they might not deserve it. He concluded his sermon with an invitation.

"There are people on either side of the stage by the doors. If you need a new church home, or if you would like to give your life to Christ, or if you just need someone to pray with, they are there to listen and be there for you."

As the music started, Sam watched a few people stand and head down the aisle for the prayer rooms. A movement on his left had him looking over at his brother. Dean had stood up and was moving into the aisle. When he faced the stage, Sam could see tears falling down his face. He watched in astonishment as Dean slowly made his way down the center aisle. He stopped suddenly halfway down the aisle, and Sam bolted from the pew, approaching his brother. He slipped his hand into Dean's and gave his brother a reassuring nod. They made their way to the people at the doors.

"Hi," said a middle-aged woman with short, curly hair. "Welcome. My name's Joy."

"Hi, I'm Sam. This is my brother Dean."

"Why don't you come on back?" she asked.

As Dean headed through the doors, Sam turned to Joy.

"I just want you to know that Dean doesn't talk," said Sam. "He was…hurt a month ago and he hasn't talked since. I'll be talking for him."

"Okay," said Joy. She led the two of them to a small, quiet room with armchairs spread all over. Sam and Dean sat on a couch as the woman took a chair in front of them.

"Sam and Dean," asked the woman. "Have a last name?"

"Winchester," Sam answered.

"Is this your first visit?"

"Actually, it's our first service ever," Sam replied.

"And what brings you back here today?"

Sam looked at Dean for his cue. Dean nodded at him. "You sure?" Dean nodded.

Sam looked at Joy. "Two months ago, that felon that escaped from prison…Marcus Kinzer…he broke into Dean's bedroom, and…raped him."

"Oh, sweetie," said Joy, taking Dean's hand.

Dean nudged Sam, and Sam looked at him. "Everything?" Dean nodded.

"Okay," said Sam. "Do you have an open mind?"

"Of course," said Joy.

"Well, we found out a month ago that…Dean is pregnant," said Sam. Joy stared at him. "I know, it's impossible. But, it looks like God has turned this horrible incident into a miracle."

"Well…anything is possible with God," Joy said. "God surely has—"

"Am I bad?" Dean asked suddenly. They looked at him. He had tears in his eyes. "Am I bad?"

"Of course not," Joy told him. "God has chosen to reward you with life. You're not bad at all."

"I don't wanna be me anymore," Dean muttered. "I wanna change."

"Are you saying you want to give your life to Christ?"

Dean began crying. "Yes."

Sam smiled as he looked at the woman. "Me, too." He'd always prayed, but he'd never really converted. What better time?"

"That's wonderful, boys," she said. "Pray with me."

The three of them bowed their heads, and prayed their confessions and conversions. Dean looked up at Sam, and Sam pulled his into a hug. Dean hugged him back, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Excuse me," Joy said. She left the boys.

"You did it, Dean," said Sam. "I am so proud of you." Dean hugged him tighter. Tears fell down Sam's face as they hugged. The woman came back in.

"If you two don't mind, the pastor would like to announce your conversions."

Dean nodded, and Sam helped him up. They made their way to the stage, where the pastor waited.

"I have wonderful news," Josh announced. "Dean and Sam Winchester here have just given their lives to God."

The congregation cheered as the pastor shook their hands. They walked off of the stage, but Dean held Sam back.

"You want to talk to the pastor?" asked Sam. Dean nodded, and they waited for the pastor to come down.

"Congratulations, boys," he said. "Joy told me your story. Amazing thing is, that wasn't my original sermon. But last night, God kept calling me to write a new one to speak to a lost soul in the congregation. Looks like he had a special message for you, Dean."

Fresh tears sprang to Dean's eyes as the pastor gently hugged him.

"God loves you, Dean," said Josh. "You know that right?"

Dean nodded as the pastor let him go. Sam took Dean by the hand and led him to the car.

* * *

"Where've you two been?" asked Bobby as they came in the door. Sam shook his head as he led Dean to the bedroom. He placed Dean in the bed and came back out to Bobby.

"You'll never believe what happened this morning, Bobby," Sam told him, his face brimming with happiness. "Dean gave his life to Christ."

"He, what?" asked Bobby.

"We were driving along, and all of a sudden, he said my name and pointed out the church," Sam explained. "We went inside and listened to the pastor. At the end of the sermon was an invitation for prayer. Dean stood up and walked towards the prayer room doors. I went with him for support, and Dean had me tell the lady about everything. Then…Dean asked the lady if he was bad. Then he said he wanted to change, that he didn't want to be like himself anymore. Then we both gave our lives to God."

"That's amazing, Sam," said Bobby. "I think Dean's finally snapping out of it. But I want you to know…"

"I know, I know," said Sam. "He's still Dean, and he's still in pain. It'll take a while."

* * *

Dean woke up in an empty bedroom, feeling peace for the first time in two months. He sighed as he lay in the bed. It was as if a giant weight had lifted from his shoulders. He had a new life to look forward to. As his first act in his new life, Dean rolled off the bed and knelt next to the bed, clasping his hands.

Dean cleared his throat. "Uh…God? I'm not exactly sure how to do this, so bear with me…Thank you for this…a second chance…a fresh start. You saved me from hell, you've kept me and Sammy safe all these years, and now…you've given me a family of my own…and I intend on caring for it with all my heart. I am sorry for the life I've led…but now I want to live for you. Help me to keep this promise…Uh…Amen."

Dean got up and looked down at the bed. The sheets were filthy. They hadn't been changed in a month, and it didn't help that it was Dean lying in them. Speaking of…Dean hadn't had a proper shower in a month. Sure, the nurses gave him sponge baths, and Sam tried to keep with that the past two weeks. He would wash Dean's face, torso, arms and lower legs, but thought it would be too uncomfortable for either of them if he washed anywhere near his groin. Not only that, but a sponge bath just didn't compare to an actual shower.

Dean grabbed his soap, shampoo, and a clean change of clothes, heading for the bathroom. He stripped out of his soiled pajama pants and T-shirt, dumping them on the bathroom floor. Placing his items on the edge of the tub, he turned the hot water on and stepped in. The water flowed down his skin, warming his core. He grabbed the soap and began scrubbing his skin. His whole being seemed to take a deep, clean breath, and Dean chuckled at the image. He took the shampoo to his hair, cleaning the muck and grease from his scalp. When he was thoroughly clean, he stepped out and dried himself off. He slipped on his clothes for the day and looked at himself in the mirror.

_Damn, I need to put some meat on my bones._

He exited and bathroom and walked towards the living room and kitchen. Bobby was at the stove and Sam was sitting at the table. Both had their backs to Dean, and hadn't noticed that he had come in. Dean stood at the doorway, contemplating sneaking back to the bedroom before they saw him.

_No! You're never gonna get better if you keep running away._

Dean took a deep breath. "What's for breakfast?"

Sam and Bobby spun around and stared at Dean. Sam glanced at Bobby and back at Dean, smiling.

"Pigs in blankets," Bobby answered.

Dean smiled. "Wow, Bobby, sophisticated."

Sam laughed out loud as Bobby smiled. Dean sat down across from Sam. Sam looked at his wet hair.

"'Bout time you did something about that smell," Sam joked. He immediately tensed. Dean could tell Sam wasn't sure if he was ready to take jokes yet. Dean decided to put his mind at ease.

"Well, someone had to take care of those dirty socks of yours," teased Dean. "You could knock out an entire town with that stink."

Sam smiled. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

Bobby came over and wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders. "It's good to have you back, Dean."

Dean accepted the hug. "Thanks for everything, Bobby."

"Don't mention it," said Bobby. "You're family."

"Speaking of that…Sammy," said Dean, looking at his brother. "Would you…be the godfather?"

Sam smiled. "Sure…especially when it's mine."

Dean stared at him. "What?"

"Marcus Kinzer isn't the other father. I am. God chose my DNA because I was your only living relative left." Dean stared at him. "Is that okay?"

Dean's face broke into a smile. "That's awesome!"

"You don't find that…a little weird?"

"Why? I mean, it's not like we had sex or anything." Sam still stared at him incredulously. "It's like…God took your DNA and my DNA, mixed it together in a test tube, and put it in the surrogate mother, me."

Sam smiled, shrugging. "You're right. I feel better about it now."

"So do I."

"Who's hungry?" asked Bobby as he set a plate of food in the middle of the table.

"I'm starving!" Dean exclaimed.

Bobby laughed. "I guess he really is back."

They sat down to eat together.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note

I will not be updating for a few days. I'm headed to the Chicago convention this weekend, and getting my picture taken with Jensen! But I will finish this story.


	7. Chapter 7

Convention update

OH MY GOSH! The convention today was awesome!!!!!! When I went to the photo op with Jensen, I walked into the room, and looked over at him. For a minute, I couldn't believe it was really him. I mean, it was just too real. He was right there! AHHH!!!!!! And, boy, was he tall. I only came up to his shoulder. I was like, if he's this tall, I wonder how tall Jared is in person. I got up there and he put his arm around me, and boy, those muscles…That…was…amazing! Then I waited around for two hours while they finished up all the photos. I bought a shirt and a poster, cool! Then came the Q&A. They did the two of them for the whole hour instead of solos and duo Q&A. I was in the back, so I couldn't see properly, but they had the big screens up and running. It was hilarious!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Dean stood hunched over the hood of the Impala, a smudge of grease on his face. Sam walked up to him.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"There's a stall in the engine that I noticed while we were driving away from the church yesterday," Dean explained. "Get me that can of oil."

Sam reached down and grabbed said can, opening it. Dean braced himself against the hood suddenly.

"What is it?" asked Sam.

Dean darted for a bush near the house, and threw up. Sam came over and rubbed his back as he dry-heaved.

"Morning sickness, huh?" said Sam. Dean shook his head. "Then what is it?"

"That oil," said Dean. "The smell." Sam nodded. Being pregnant, Dean's sense of smell was out of whack.

"How about we leave that for when you're not nauseous?" asked Sam.

Dean nodded. "Man, this sucks. It's bad enough I throw up everything I eat, now I throw up when something nauseating hits my nose?"

"It's only for another few weeks," said Sam. "Then the cravings hit."

"Cravings?" asked Dean. Sam nodded. "Dammit."

* * *

**One week later…**

Dean and Sam walked out of the bar, smiles on their faces. Sam had taken Dean out for some pool-hustling, hoping it would get his regular attitude out of Dean. Dean was opening up and communicating better, but he wasn't back to being Dean yet. The two guys that they had hustled had looked pretty sore about the whole thing. Dean had cleaned them out, but not with the usual swagger he once had.

Dean and Sam were heading for the Impala, when Sam was suddenly slammed to the pavement by one of the big, burly men they had hustled. Dean spun around as the second hustled man grabbed his shoulders and shoved him against the wall. A flash of hands groping him and thrusts banging into him bombarded his mind, breaking a whimper from him.

"What's the matter?" said the man. "So tough in there, but you're nothing but a coward. A pathetic, screwed up coward." Dean's eyes widened as he squirmed in the man's clutches, too close for comfort.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, pinned on the ground. He fought to get to his brother. "No!"

"Look at you," said Dean's attacker. "What, did somebody get a little too friendly?" The man laughed as he raised his fist to punch Dean's gut…right where his baby was growing.

Now, Dean had one of two choices: surrender to his growing hysteria and withdraw back into his safe shell…or fight for his brother and his baby.

_Please, God, give me the strength to save them._

Dean's face twisted into a snarl of anger, and he brought his head forward, cracking it against the man's head. The man staggered back, and Dean nailed him with a right hook. He drew his left boot up, slamming it into the guy's gut. Deciding that Dean was more of a threat, the other guy left Sam and rushed Dean. Dean dropped, swinging his leg out to knock the guy's legs out from under him. When the guy went down, Dean punched him in the jaw, knocking his head into the pavement and knocking him out. The first guy wrapped his hands around Dean's throat from behind, but Dean brought his fast back, nailing him in the groin. The guy released Dean, and Dean popped up and spun around, punching him. The guy turned and ran, leaving his buddy behind.

"Yeah, that's right!" Dean yelled after him. "You better run, you son of a bitch!" Dean turned to look at Sam. His younger brother hadn't moved, and was staring at him, mouth open. "What?"

"That was amazing!" Sam breathed. "You…you…"

"I know," smirked Dean, his smile crooked and cocky. "I kicked ass." Dean held his hand out, helping Sam up. Sam was grinning excitedly. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just…You seem like your old self again."

"Yeah…Yeah, I think after everything…I'm finally coping." Dean gave a huge smile. "Now, what do you say we make an OB/GYN appointment." Sam smiled as if he was stifling a laugh. "Don't even think about it."

* * *

**Three weeks later…**

Dean was one week and three months along, and the morning sickness was becoming less and less frequent. Dean stood in the shower, rinsing soap off of his torso. As he ran his hands over his stomach, he noticed a slight roundness to his abdomen. He felt the skin of his abdomen; it had become soft and was starting to bulge.

Dean smiled. _I've got a baby bump._

That smile quickly changed to a frown as a churning worked its way through his abdomen.

_What is that?_

The churning quickly turned to a stabbing throb, and Dean closed his eyes, wincing in pain.

_Is this normal? 'Cause it hurts like hell._

As the throbbing grew to a sharp ache, Dean doubled over, groaning.

_Oh, this is definitely not normal!_

Dean fell to his knees on the floor of the shower, wrapping an arm around his middle. A yell broke from his throat as the pain grew again.

* * *

Sam flipped through the channels while he sat on the couch, looking for something to watch.

"Hey, boy," said Bobby from the kitchen. "I think we need to start buying stuff for the baby."

"Okay, we can go tomorrow afternoon and look at some stuff."

"AAAAHHHH!"

Sam jumped up as he heard Dean yelling in the bathroom.

"Dean!"

Sam ran towards the bathroom, finding the door locked. He banged on the door.

"Dean!"

"Sammy!" Dean yelled back, his voice pleading with Sam for help.

Sam stepped back and raised his foot, using his momentum to drive his foot into the door. His boot connected with the door just next to the door handle, and the doorjamb splinter, letting the door swing open. Sam rushed to the shower and pulled back the curtain. Dean was kneeling on the bottom of the tub, bracing himself with one hand on the shower wall and one hand covering his stomach. He looked up at Sam, pain in his eyes as he winced.

"What's wrong?" asked Sam, kneeling next to the tub. "What happened? Did you fall?"

Dean shook his head, grimacing. "Something's wrong, Sammy…"

Sam grabbed the towel from the counter and threw it over Dean's back. He gripped Dean's elbows, getting to his feet.

"Ready?" asked Sam.

Dean nodded and gripped Sam's forearms. Sam helped him to his feet, grabbing the towel and fixing it around Dean's waist. Dean took a few breaths before lifting his leg and stepping over the edge of the tub. He lifted his other leg as his legs gave out with a cry of pain. Sam caught Dean as he collapsed towards the floor.

"Bobby, get the car!" Sam yelled.

Sam pulled Dean into his arms and carried him to the bedroom, laying him on his bed. Sam grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Dean slipped the pants on under the towel. He lifted his arms to put his shirt on, but hissed in pain and fell onto his side. Sam fetched a button-down shirt and sat Dean up, sliding his arms into the sleeves one-by-one. He let Dean button up the shirt as he rushed back to the bathroom, turning off the water. He came back to find Dean lying on the bed, groaning in pain. Without a word, Sam picked Dean up from the bed, cradling him to his chest. Dean gripped his stomach, his face twisted in extreme pain.

"Sammy…" Dean muttered through clenched teeth.

"It's okay," Sam reassured his brother. "We're going to the hospital."

"It's hurts," Dean moaned.

"I know, Dean, I know," said Sam. "I'm gonna fix it."

Sam barged through the front door. Bobby got out of the Impala's driver seat to open up the back door for Sam.

"What's going on?" asked Bobby.

"Dean's in pain," said Sam. "We're headed to the hospital."

Sam placed Dean across the backseat, and got behind the wheel as Bobby got into the passenger seat. Sam stepped on the gas, pealing away from the house.

"My baby…" Dean muttered. Sam looked in the rearview mirror, stunned at Dean's tone. His brother never showed emotion. "I don't want to lose my baby."

"You won't," said Sam firmly. "We're gonna get you to the hospital, and Dr. Roberts will help you."

Dean yelled in pain again, his head falling back onto the seat. Twenty minutes of agony later, Sam pulled up to the hospital and pulled Dean out of the car.

"Someone get me Dr. Roberts!" yelled Sam as he carried Dean into the ER. "We need help!"

Dr. Roberts came around the corner, rushing over to Dean. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Sam told her. "He was in the shower, and he started hurting."

"How bad is it, Dean?" asked Dr. Roberts.

Dean's answer was cut off as another wave of pain hit him. He squirmed in Sam's arms, throwing his head back as he yelled. Dr. Roberts placed a stethoscope over Dean's stomach, and listened.

"This isn't good," said Dr. Roberts. She led Sam over to a gurney, which he placed Dean on. "We need to get him to the OR STAT."

"OR?" asked Sam, startled.

"The baby is in crisis," said Dr. Roberts. "We need to operate immediately."

"Operate?" stuttered Sam.

"Sam, you need to wait here," said Dr. Roberts.

"No," said Sam. "He needs me. I—"

"Sam, we can't help him if you're hovering over him," said Dr. Roberts. "We need you here. Dean needs you here."

She wheeled Dean away from Sam as he froze in the hallway. He watched his brother's gurney disappear down the hall. He wasn't even sure when Bobby appeared at his shoulder. All he knew was that his brother, and most likely his baby, could die today.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Sam stayed in the waiting room for three hours, pacing, sitting, pacing, sitting, pacing—

"Sit down, boy," said Bobby. "You're making me nervous."

Sam sat in the chair next to Bobby. "Sorry."

Sam didn't understand why this was happening. Why would God give Dean a child just to kill it? Sam winced, reprimanding himself. God didn't do this on purpose. Sometimes, crap just happened…to them more than others. Yeah, crap always happened to them. So, when was it enough? When did they ever get a break?

"Sam," Bobby nudged him.

Sam's head popped up, and he spotted Dr. Roberts headed for them. Sam jumped up and approached her.

"What happened?" asked Sam. "Is he okay?"

"He's perfectly fine," said Dr. Roberts. "The umbilical cord got wrapped around the baby's neck. I understand you and Dean were in a small fight a couple weeks ago?"

"Yeah, two guys jumped us at a bar," Sam explained.

"The cord probably shifted during the fight," Dr. Roberts told him. "The baby doesn't breathe with its lungs until birth, so it wasn't an issue until the cord became compressed, cutting off blood flow, oxygen flow and nutrients to the baby."

Sam's face fell as his world went spinning. His eyes darted back and forth as he began breathing deeply.

_The baby's dead…no…_

Tears began welling up in Sam's eyes.

"No, no, no!" said Dr. Roberts as Sam began to cry. "You misunderstand me. The surgery saved the baby."

Sam stared at her. "What?"

"We were able to go in and untangle the cord," said Dr. Roberts. "It's going to be fine. Perfectly healthy."

"Really?"

"Yes. Dean's resting in his room now. You can go see him, but he's sleeping now."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Roberts," Sam told her, and began heading for Dean's room.

"Would you like to know the sex of the baby?"

Sam turned, stunned. "You know?"

"We were able to see during the surgery."

Sam contemplated for a moment. "Tell the both of us when he wakes up."

"Okay," said Dr. Roberts.

Sam walked down to Dean's room and entered. Dean was asleep on the bed, an IV attached to his hand. He was attached to a heart monitor that was beeping extraordinarily loud. That's when Sam noticed the second heart monitor with a cord leading to Dean's stomach…it was the baby's heartbeat. Sam looked between the two heart monitors, amazed. The baby's heartbeat was exactly in sync with Dean's heartbeat. Sam smiled as he sat next to Dean and waited.

Two hours later, Sam was drifting off when he heard a sniffle from the bed. Sam's eyes sprang open, and he looked at Dean. Dean was curled on his side away from Sam, sobbing. Sam stood up and touched Dean's shoulder.

"What is it, Dean?" asked Sam.

"I can't even be a good father, and it's not even here yet," Dean sobbed. "It never will be."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I miscarried. I lost the baby…didn't I?"

Sam walked around the bed so Dean could see the huge smile on his face. Dean frowned at him. "No, you didn't. The cord was compressed, so they went in and untangled it. Baby's never been healthier."

Dean's mouth twitched at the corners. "It's alive?"

"Yep. And pretty soon, you won't be saying 'it' anymore. They found out the sex of the baby."

Dean sat up in his bed. "What is it?"

"I don't know. I wanted to wait for you."

Dean reached for the nurse call button and pressed it. She came in and smiled.

"Can you get Dr. Roberts in here?" asked Dean.

"Sure," said the nurse. She disappeared and came back five minutes later with Dr. Roberts.

"Well?" said Dean. "What is it?" He held a hand over his stomach.

Dr. Roberts smiled. "Congratulations. It's a girl."

Dean's smile lit up his face. "Girl…"

"Been thinking of names?" asked Dr. Roberts.

"Actually, I have," Dean told her. He looked at Sam. "John Samuel for a boy." Sam smiled, taken back by Dean wanting to name a child for him. "And Angel Mary for a girl."

"Angel…" said Sam. "That's beautiful."

"Yeah…" said Dean, looking at his stomach. "Angel Winchester. She did come from God, after all."

"It fits," Sam told him.

"Hey, doc, when can I get out of here?" asked Dean.

"You just underwent a serious surgery. I'd say two days."

"Okay," said Dean.

"See, Dean, I told you everything would be fine," said Sam.

* * *

**Three weeks later…**

The transfer back to Bobby's house had gone beautifully. Dean had trouble using his abs to do stuff, such as sitting up, reaching for objects, or raising his arms. After a week, the stitches had dissolved, and the incision had healed. He was now four months along, and his stomach had bulged about five inches from his abs. Anyone looking would just see a guy who didn't exercise, so it was still safe to go out in public.

Dean was sitting on the sofa, watching TV, when he felt it. A small flutter tickled his ribs.

_What was that?_

Then a small pounding vibrated through Dean's stomach…Angel had kicked. Dean placed a hand over the left side of his slightly swollen belly.

"Come on, baby," said Dean. "Do it for Daddy."

He waited for about ten seconds, and then Angel kicked right where Dean's hand rested. Dean smiled widely and shot up from the couch, headed for the front door. He flew down the porch steps and rushed towards Sam, who was touching up the Impala for Dean.

Sam spun around when he heard Dean's hurried footsteps. "What is it?"

Dean grabbed Sam's hand and placed it on that special spot on his stomach. "Wait for it."

Sam looked confused until Angel kicked his hand. Sam's eyes lit up as he looked at Dean's stomach.

"Did she—"

"Yeah," answered Dean. "Started just a moment ago."

"Oh, wow," said Sam. "That's amazing."

"I know," said Dean with a huge smile.

"You look better," Sam observed.

"You know, this is the first morning I've woken up without so much as a cramp. The morning sickness is finally gone. And you know what I could go for?"

"What?"

"A turkey sandwich with pickles and anchovies."

Sam grimaced. "And I think I just lost my appetite. Anchovies, seriously?"

"Hey, you were the one who said I'd get weird food cravings."

* * *

**Two months later…**

And weird they were. Dean was a strange eater at the best of times. Having pregnancy cravings…Sam had thought Dean was disgusting enough in his food choices. It ranged from peanut butter and jelly with pickles to meat lovers' pizza with bananas on top to grilled chicken covered in chocolate sauce (Sam had come very close to puking when fixing that).

Dean was now six months along, which meant his stomach was as big as it would get. Sam had had to run to the store for larger shirts and stretchy sweat pants a month ago. The nursery in Bobby's spare room was coming along. They had a crib, changing table, rocking chair and some old toys of the boys' in the corner. They were going for an angel theme.

The past six months had been completely demon free, whether from fear of heavenly retribution on Dean's part or hellish revenge in the form of Sam's powers—which Dean had not been too thrilled to find out about—they didn't know. They should have known, however, that such peace was not meant to last.

Dean was sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for Sam to come back out of the diner. It was a routine they'd established: Sam would get the food while Dean waited in the car to avoid freaking the locals. A scream came from the alley by the diner, and Dean looked up at the diner. Sam was still standing at the counter. It was probably too noisy in the diner to hear the scream. Dean reached for the door handle, but stopped and looked at his huge stomach. He didn't want to put his daughter in danger, but what if the girl out there died?

A scream answered his dilemma for him, and he darted out of the car, opening the trunk. He pulled out his .45 loaded with iron rounds, a salt-shotgun, and Ruby's knife. He stuck the knife into the back of his pants, closing the trunk. He darted for the alley, his movements somewhat slow form his expecting belly. He reached the end of the alleyway, finding a man standing over an unconscious girl.

"Hey!" Dean yelled. He raised his .45 and shot the man in the leg to find out what he was. He yelled in agony as he spun to face Dean, eyes black. "Demon it is, then."

Dean whipped out the knife as the demon took him in.

"Well, well, well," said the demon. "Dean Winchester. The rumors are true, then. You're…expecting."

"What's it to you?" Dean said.

"Why would God reward you?" asked the demon. "Gluttony, lust, wrath, envy, pride…All the things you've done…all the sins…why do you deserve God's special treatment?"

"Salvation doesn't work that way. Everything I've done is in the past. I've accepted God and been forgiven. I've got a clean slate that I don't plan on dirtying."

The demon rushed him, pinning him to the wall by his neck. "Well, then…let's see what we can't do about that."

Dean raised the knife, but the demon grabbed it and stabbed Dean…right in his pregnant stomach.

"NOOOOO!"

* * *

Sam walked out of the diner with the bags of food and looked up at Dean…who wasn't in the car. Sam set the bags on the hood of the Impala.

"Dean?" Sam called. He turned, looking for Dean. "Dean?!"

"NOOOOO!"

Sam sprinted into the alley, skidding to a stop at the sight in front of him. Dean was pinned to the wall by a demon, Ruby's knife plunged up to the hilt in Dean's stomach. Sam spotted an unconscious girl on the alley floor.

_Dean had saved her…He risked his and his baby's life for her…_

The demon twisted the knife and pulled it out, raising it for another strike. Sam shot his hand out, freezing the demon in his tracks. He began pulling on the demon and watched as the black smoke flew out of the man's mouth. As the man collapsed to the ground, Dean fell to his knees, gripping his stomach. Sam ran over, pulling him into his arms.

"Angel…" Dean muttered as he fell into Sam's arms. "She's dying…" Tears fell down his face. "She's dying…No…"

Sam looked down at the gaping hole in Dean's stomach caused by the twisting of the knife. A tiny, bloody hand was just visible underneath the town layers of skin and muscle.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Sam looked down at the gaping hole in Dean's stomach caused by the twisting of the knife. A tiny, bloody hand was just visible underneath the torn layers of skin and muscle.

Tears fell down Sam's face as he cried with Dean. His brother had lost the baby. Not after everything that—

Sam looked down to find Dean's shirt whole again. He lifted it up. The wound was gone. The blood was gone. Dean sat up a little.

"What was that?" asked Dean, sniffling in his tears. "I felt something tingle." He put his hand to his stomach.

"Dean…it's gone…"

"What do you mean, gone?" frowned Dean.

"It's healed…" said Sam. Dean looked down to find himself whole. "Come on, we gotta get the baby checked out."

He helped Dean up and took him back to the Impala, sitting him in the passenger seat. Sam made two more trips, putting the man and woman in the backseat.

* * *

"Well, I've run every test I can," said Dr. Roberts in Dean's exam room as she prepped him for an ultrasound. "You say you were stabbed?"

Dean nodded. "Right in the stomach."

"Well, the baby's fine," said Dr. Roberts as she turned the ultrasound screen to face them. "See? Alive and kicking."

Dean felt a jab to his ribs. "You're not wrong there."

Dr. Roberts laughed with the brothers. "See, here's the heartbeat." Dean seemed to finally relax as he listened to his daughter's steady heartbeat. "I don't get it. You must have some kind of angel watching over you."

"Or maybe the big guy Himself," said Dean.

"Well, whoever did it, it's a miracle," said Dr. Roberts. "Now, we need to discuss the method of delivery."

Dean stared at her. "Now?"

"Well, being a male pregnancy, I'm not sure when your body will decide to deliver. It could be the usual, in three months, or it could be as soon as one month. We can't tell for sure."

"Well, how am I gonna deliver? I'm missing crucial equipment here."

"I'd like to do a C-section. It's the only way."

"A C-section?" asked Dean. He'd read about those, and they always had risks. It's why women were built to deliver naturally.

"Unless…" started Sam.

"Unless, what?" asked Dean.

Sam shook his head, ducking his head in embarrassment. "It's nothing."

"Sam, if you've got an alternative to C-section, I wanna hear it."

"It's stupid."

"I don't care."

Sam inhaled deeply. "A glamour."

Dean stared at him. "Go on."

"It's a spell we could do when you go into labor. It'll…transform you into a woman until after the birth. You know…deliver the natural way."

Dean seemed to ponder that for a moment. "Works for me."

"Really?" said Sam. "You'd just willingly allow me to magically transform you into a woman?"

"I'm not seeing many choices here."

"Okay," said Sam. "I'll get the stuff ready."

"Okay, then," said Dr. Roberts. "I guess I'll know it's you when Sam is with you. Good luck with that."

* * *

**Three months later…**

"Ugh!" Dean moaned for the thousandth time. "Get out of me!"

"Dean, it's only a couple more days," said Sam. "It'll be over before you know it."

"It's just crap!" Dean complained as he lay on the couch. Dr. Roberts had told them that she wanted Dean off his feet as much as possible. "I can't get comfortable, I gotta pee every five minutes, the kid's kicking my liver like a frigging soccer ball, and my back aches like a mother!"

"I know, Dean," Sam said through clenched teeth. _I've heard it a million times, already! Grow up! _"It's normal. You'll be done soon."

"Well, I want to be done now!" yelled Dean. He frowned, trying to place a weird sensation in his belly.

"I know," said Sam. "Just hang on, okay?"

"Oh, this kid better be worth this," mumbled Dean. He grimaced as his hand flew to his belly.

"What is it?" asked Sam, getting up and kneeling next to Dean.

"Sammy…" groaned Dean. "I think the correct term is…my water just broke."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"You what?" asked Sam.

"I can't be sure, but I'm pretty damn sure," said Dean. "There was this weird cool sensation, and then my abs started, like, clenching."

"Oh, gosh," Sam muttered. "You **are** going into labor. Hold that thought." Sam rushed to the fridge, which held the potion he had brewed up two months ago. He rushed back to Dean, holding the cup to his mouth. "Here. Drink. If you're gonna do this, it has to be now."

Dean drank the potion as Sam held the cup up for him. The bitter substance stung the back of his throat as it slid down.

Dean looked up at Sam. "Well?"

Sam frowned. "It didn't work."

"Great, Sammy. You can't even do a simple thing like a glamour? I was counting on you to help me here. Now I gotta do a C-section, you _bitch_." Dean frowned, eyes wide. That last word had come out an octave higher than his normal voice. Sam smiled as he stared at Dean. Dean felt something tickle the sides of his face. He glanced down to find his vision obscured by long sheets of golden blonde hair. He noticed a pair of breasts over his swollen stomach.

Dean smiled. "It worked!" A contraction hit him. "Ah!"

"Okay, come on," said Sam, helping him up. There was a soft, faint splash, and they looked down to see water on the floor at Dean's feet. "I guess you were right."

Sam helped Dean out to the Impala, putting him in the passenger seat. About halfway there, the Impala choked and sputtered, cruising to a stop on the side of the country road.

"No, no," muttered Sam.

"Oh, gosh, Sammy!" Dean screamed. "I gotta push!"

"Whoa, whoa," Sam told him. "You're jumped the gun. The pain is normal."

"No, Sammy, I **have to push**!" groaned Dean.

Sam looked at him. "How far apart are the contractions?"

"About five seconds," moaned Dean.

"Five seconds?" exclaimed Sam. "Your water broke ten minutes ago! That's not normal!"

"What about this **has **been normal?" Dean told him. He yelled again as a contraction worked its way through his uterus—boy, did that sound weird.

"Okay, come on," said Sam as he opened the driver's door and got out, kneeling on the pavement facing the inside of the car. "Let's get those pants off."

"What?" exclaimed Dean through the pain. "Are you crazy? You're not a doctor."

"Jess had a friend that went into labor at a restaurant, and the ambulance couldn't get there in time," Sam told him. "I'd taken a course in Growth and Development, so I was the only one qualified enough to deliver the baby. I know what I'm doing."

"But—"

"Dean, we don't have the time! The baby is not gonna wait! Now get those pants off!"

As Dean reluctantly took his sweatpants off, Sam called Bobby.

"Sam?" Bobby answered.

"Bobby, are you finished doing research?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm headed back to the house."

"We need you to pick us up. Dean went into labor, but the car broke down. He's delivering roadside."

Bobby got their location and hung up.

Sam turned to Dean. The sweatpants lay crumpled on the floor. "Brace yourself against the door." Dean leaned back against the passenger door, one hand on the dash and one hand on the back of the seat. He placed his legs on the seat, breathing heavily.

"Okay, now don't forget to breathe," Sam told him as he positioned himself in front of Dean's legs. "When the next contraction hits, push."

Dean nodded as he winced. He leaned forward and pushed, his face contorting in pain. Sam placed a hand on his knee, watching as the top of the head appeared. Dean collapsed against the door.

"Good, good," coached Sam. "I can see the head. Push, Dean."

Dean leaned forward, pushing as he breathed deeply. The baby slid out to its shoulders before Dean collapsed. Sam placed his hands under the baby's head to support it.

"Come on, Dean," Sam coaxed. "A few more pushes."

Tears mingled with the sweat on Dean's face as he pushed again. The baby barely budged before Dean collapsed, already spent.

"I can't…" Dean whimpered in exhaustion. "I can't…"

Sam put a hand on Dean's knee. "Yes, you can. Angel is counting on you, Dean." Sam could see the fear in Dean's eyes, and he understood suddenly. Dean was afraid to bring a life into this world, afraid that she would get hurt or that Dean would screw up her life. "Hey." Dean looked at him. "I don't think God would give you this miracle and then heal her from a stab wound just for her to die. You have a daughter that you are going to see grow into a beautiful woman with a life and family of her own. I'll make sure of that." Dean watched him for a moment and sat up, getting ready to push. Sam moved his hand back to the baby. "Push, Dean."

Dean pushed with all his strength, a feral scream breaking from his throat. Sam helped pull the baby the rest of the way out. Dean collapsed onto the seat as Sam grabbed a shirt from the backseat and wrapped Angel in it. He used the corner of the shirt to wipe her face off. He then carefully turned her onto her stomach, lightly slapped her back to clear her lungs and throat of the amniotic fluid. Angel coughed as she spit up the fluid, and immediately began crying. Sam cradled her to his chest, leaning into the car.

"Here she is, Dean," Sam told him. Dean sat up, taking his daughter in his arms, looking down at her. Angel seemed to calm in her father's arms. Sam rushed to the trunk and grabbed a knife. He came back to the car and cut the umbilical cord, tying it up.

"You really did good, Sammy," said Dean, smiling at him. "Thank you."

Sam smiled back as he began cleaning the front seat, wondering if he should stitch Dean up himself. He looked up to see a male Dean now cradling Angel.

"Well, I guess the potion worked," said Sam. Dean looked down at his naked lower half.

"Hey, give me my pants!" Dean exclaimed. He handed Angel to Sam, and reached down, pulling his sweatpants back on.

Sam heard an engine rumble as it pulled up behind them. He looked up to see Bobby climbing out of his truck. Sam handed Angel back to Dean and finished cleaning up.

"Everything okay?" asked Bobby.

Dean climbed out of the Impala. "Yeah. Bobby, this is Angel."

Bobby looked down at Dean's daughter. "She's beautiful."

Sam tossed Dean's duffel into Bobby's truck and locked the Impala.

"Whoa, whoa, we're not just gonna leave her here!" exclaimed Dean. "What if someone steals her?"

"Dean, the Impala is dead for now," said Sam. "We'll come back in the morning. We gotta get Angel to the hospital to get checked over. Your daughter, or your car."

Dean looked down at the bundle in his arms. "Let's go." He climbed into Bobby's truck, tucking his daughter closer to him.

* * *

Dean stood by the exam table as Dr. Roberts checked Angel over.

"You say Sam delivered her?" she asked.

Dean smiled at his brother. "Yeah, we were stuck on the side of the road."

Dr. Roberts looked at Sam. "Were you a Health Careers major?"

Sam smiled. "No, pre-law."

"Well, you did an excellent job, Sam," said Dr. Roberts. "Dean and Angel were in very good hands. Well done."

"Thanks," said Sam.

"Well, your daughter is perfectly healthy," said Dr. Roberts. "Good reactions, good reflexes, good heartbeat, good respiration…Couldn't be better."

"Thank you," said Dean as he took Angel into his arms, cradling her head. She turned her face towards Dean's chest and opened her mouth, making sucking sounds. "What's she doing?"

"It's called the rooting reflex," explained Dr. Roberts. "She's trying to feed. I suggest you pick up some formula on your way home."

"Will do," said Dean, trying not to panic at the thought of breast feeding. _Glad I don't have to do that._

* * *

Bobby pulled up to the house, and the three of them spotted a car no one recognized. Sam darted out of the truck, sneaking into the house. After a moment, he appeared in the doorway, waving them inside. Bobby and Dean climbed out of the truck. Bobby carried the bag of baby food and formula they'd bought while Dean carried Angel. Dean walked into the living room, spotting Ellen and Jo Harvelle on the couch.

"Oh, you guys found a baby?" asked Jo.

"Actually," said Dean, smiling down at his daughter, "she's mine."

Ellen and Jo stared at him. "What?" asked Ellen.

"Meet Angel Mary Winchester," Dean said as he came over to show them. "Just born tonight."

"You knocked someone up?" asked Jo.

Dean laughed. "It's a long story."

Jo looked down at Angel. "Hey, she's got your eyes."

Dean looked down to see two green orbs staring up at him. "What do you know, she does."

Jo frowned. "She's got Sam's nose." She looked up at them, asking for an explanation.

Dean sighed. "Okay, fine. Nine months ago, this creep raped me and got me pregnant. Don't ask me how; it was God's doing. But, God decided to use Sam's DNA instead of the guy's. That's why she has Sam's nose."

"So…Uncle Sam is actually…Daddy Sam?" asked Ellen.

"Let's just stick with Uncle Sam," Sam interrupted. "It's all just too confusing."

"Daddy Dean, Uncle Sam and Grandpa Bobby," smiled Ellen.

"Don't forget Aunt Jo and Grandma Ellen," said Dean.

The five of them sat in the living room for hours, Dean holding Angel close.

**So, that's it for this one, but stay tuned. There WILL be a sequel!**


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNING!**

**Public service announcement!**

I am not quitting fanfiction! I am currently working on printing and binding my current stories for my storage. When I am finished with that, I will work on my stories again.

I will first do a songfic (my first one). Then a season three story. Then a mermaid story. Then Don't You Cry No More 3. Then The Winchester That Wasn't 2. I'm excited about all of them!

I'll see you guys in a few weeks!


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